Agent
by ReverseEND
Summary: Matt's a cop set on arresting the cruel, calculated mafia boss who calls himself Mello. But the more Matt interacts with him, the more he feels like Mello's more than what he leads on to be—and maybe that's not a bad thing. Some gun threats, sexual harassment, and teamwork later, both men find themselves wondering where the line between black and white truly lies. Matt & Mello POVs


_AN: This is a rewrite of an old fic of mine by the same name, but you **do not** need to have read the first version to understand it! (The old version has actually been deleted/cleared, and the plot does differ between the two.)_

 _I'm actually so excited to be sharing this rewrite with you! I was up until 2 AM last night writing this (: I hope that you'll enjoy it!_

 _I did a quick Google search for American police ranks this time around, so that I wouldn't be_ completely _bullshitting the ranks this time around hahaha. So for those of you that read the old version of this fic, Alex (a side character) is now a sergeant and not a chief (I don't even think chiefs exist in American police ranks?)._

 _I hope that I can update sometime soon! Thanks for reading (:_

 _With love,_

 _Quinn_

* * *

 **Matt POV**

The goal of this mission was simple: get close to the target, take his phone without him noticing, install the bug and return the phone, then get the hell out of there. Simple; an amateur could do it.

Which raises the question: how the fuck did I end up naked and handcuffed to the bed of my target, as if this was some gross reenactment of _Fifty Shades of Grey_?

Well, shit happens.

* * *

 _Three hours earlier_

* * *

Sitting outside of the bar in an inconspicuous car, I received a final briefing from my sergeant. "Get in, drop the bug, get out. Don't dawdle or talk more than you need to. Mello's a sharp man, and even the slightest discrepancy in your behaviour will give you away. I don't want you taking any risks tonight, you understand?"

"You've got it, sarge." I mock saluted the man, and he rolled his eyes at me while trying to suppress a grin from forming. The man was not only my sergeant, but also my best childhood friend, which meant that he gave me a little more leeway than a superior really should be giving.

"Just don't fuck up, Jeevas."

"Oh shut up, Alex. When have I ever fucked up a mission?" I gave him a final smirk before getting out of the car and heading for the entrance of the bar.

My target tonight was a man named Mello, a mafia head so well known amongst the police for drug trafficking and distribution that we've half-jokingly dubbed him the Coke Prince. Alex's inside sources told him that there were rumours of a large shipment of cocaine coming in for Mello this coming week, and since Mello was much too careful for us to get one of our agents close enough to him to get information on the details of the cocaine trade, we had to resort to using dirty tricks like installing bugs on his phone. Even then, Mello changed phones every three days, so this was a now-or-never sort of thing.

Since the window of time that the bug would be useful was short, a lot was riding on my success tonight. Despite the sarge's last words to me being a joke, I couldn't help but feel the weight of them. _Don't fuck up, Jeevas._

Well, I think the plan was fucked up the moment that I saw him, and I could only resent the fact that the pictures that I was given only showed his face, because there was one very important aspect that my plan distinctly did not account for. The man was wearing _skin-tight leather pants_ , and the object of my desire was right there in them, sticking out proudly and just taunting me, because I wouldn't be able to grab it. Not what you were thinking, pervert. Apparently, Mello liked to keep his phone in the front of his pants. His skin-tight, leather pants.

I groaned internally, because that meant that the difficulty of my mission just skyrocketed. There was no way in hell that I could sneak his phone in and out of those pants without him noticing. I needed to recalibrate my plan.

To blend into the environment, I sat down at the bar and ordered a beer, being careful to only take small sips so that I could keep my sobriety and clear thoughts. I casually surveyed the bar, trying to come up with a way to complete my mission. Mello was perched on a stool on the other side of the bar, downing glasses of what looked like whiskey, when suddenly, we made eye contact. I panicked and looked away, but quickly regained my composure and covered it up by faking a bashful glance back at him. He gave me a smirk and finished his drink before coming over to me.

Looks like Plan B is the seduction tactic.

At that point, I didn't know whether I should be relieved or distressed that Mello was apparently interested in me. I knew from his file that he was gay, but seduction was not a method that I had considered when making my plans. Thankfully, I was not completely inept at bullshitting my way through tricky situations.

"I saw you watching me from across the bar. Like what you see?" Mello leaned in closely to me, and I could smell the booze on his breath intermingled with his leather. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to have enough alcohol in his system to let his guard fall a little. His gaze was still sharp, and feeling those eyes on me made me understand why the other mafia members left him alone despite knowing that he was gay. Despite the fact that I had a fair bit of experience with criminals like him, he still managed to induce a sort of primal fear in me. That sort of cold, intimidating intelligence must be highly sought after in his profession.

Not wanting to seem like any sort of threat, I decided to keep up the bashful facade. I lowered my eyes to the ground and stuttered a "I—I—um, I'm so sorry, I—"

Mello interrupted me by crashing his lips to mine and pinning me to the bar. Whereas I expected him to deepen the exchange, he pulled away only a moment afterwards, leaving me confused about what his intentions were.

Thankfully (or not), Mello didn't leave his intentions ambiguous for very long. The man leaned in close to me and whispered into my ear. "Let me buy you a drink before I fuck you senseless." Shit. _Shit_.

I didn't have to fake the deer-in-headlights look that I gave him in response. My mind started going a mile a second, trying to figure out a way that I could still turn this back around. Right now, I only had two choices: either I slept with the man, or I backed out and failed the mission.

But I knew that backing out was out of the question, at this point. My conscience would never let me live down the consequences of failing this mission; two metric tons of cocaine getting into the city would ruin too many lives, and that would be partly on me.

Alright then, I guess I should continue on with this Plan B. Worst case scenario, I sleep with the man. I mean, the situation could be much worse.

At my lack of response, Mello nodded at the bartender, who slid over two glasses. "Bottoms up, babe." He then leaned in close to me again, groping me. "Then it's _your_ bottom up." _Shit_ , this man was tactless when it came to sex.

He emptied his glass and looked expectantly at me when I didn't do the same.

"I—I can't hold my alcohol very w-well," I stuttered again, keeping up with my act. I had no idea how strong the alcohol was, and I couldn't risk being inebriated in his company. Mello shot me a _cut your bullshit_ sort of look before taking my glass and finishing it for me—or so I thought.

The taller man pinned me against the bar once more and forced his lips on mine, transferring the drink from his mouth to mine. _Fuck_ , whatever it was, it burned on the way down. A feeling of regret creeped its way into me as my consciousness hazed, moments after swallowing the drink.

I don't think it was just alcohol in that drink.


End file.
